


Of A Feather

by Tyranno



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Age Reversal, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Damian is the eldest, Dogs, Gen, Immortality, Puppies, Sibling Bonding, like super mild, mild mention of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick Grayson gets a visit from his older brother Damian, and it all goes downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of A Feather

**Author's Note:**

> I dont know why I like this au so much, but I do. 
> 
> Bad ending, but w/e. 
> 
> Me and my neverending battle with formating hehhe

"Sweet!" Robin landed soundlessly, brushing his hands together. "Looks like there's still enough time to get pizza and head home."

The criminal glowered beside him, tugging at the hardening foam. He'd been pretty easy to catch, a bank robber with no powers but lots of guns. Robin wondered if anyone bothered robbing anywhere else but banks and labs. Banks seemed a little cliché, but if it ain't broke...

"Fine." Artemis rested a hand on her hip, "but first dibs on the cheese pizza, I want some before..." Artemis trailed off.

Soft clapping floated from the street.

It was dark. It was a shady alley in a city of shady alleys, most of the lights broken or stolen. Moonlight and street-light mingled and melted together in the puddles, soft and sharp at the same time. The wind whispered.

The shadows darkened and darkened, condensing into the shape of a man, moving silently. Clapping.

M'gann tensed beside Artemis, lifting off slightly. Kaldur's hands gripped his weapons tighter, unease thick in the air.

The man lifted his face to the night air. Moonlight spread silver across a dark mask, split through with white like cracked ocean ice.

Robin launched—

—and tackled the man in a hug, grinning wildly.

"Damian!" Robin yelped. Happiness sounded through his voice like a bell.

Artemis shifted uncomfortably. It kind of felt like she'd walked in on something very private with no clear way out.

"- _tt_ -," The man grumbled, "You think this suit is a fashion accessory?! Or have you just gotten _stupider_ since I've been away?"

"Sorry," Robin untangled himself sheepishly. He couldn't quite hide the 100-watt grin though.

The man straightened up, and sighed. He tugged off his mask, revealing tufty-black hair like dark sheep's wool, and startling blue eyes. "I suppose it can be forgiven. Your work with that robber was excellent."

Robin flushed. "Thanks."

M'gann's feet brushed the ground hesitantly. "Um…?"

"Oh," Robin spun around as though he had just remembered them, "Damian, this's my team, Superboy, Aqualad, Artemis, KF, Miss Martian." He gestured to each one of them as he said it, "Team, this's Da—"

" _Damian,_ " Artemis cut across easily. She narrowed her eyes.

Damian looked at her. His blue eyes were crisp. "Artemis Crock. Tell me, how _is_ your sister these days?"

Artemis's heart lurched. She glowered.

Damian tilted a dark eyebrow, gaze unwavering. The message was clear. _If you keep my secret…_

"H-he's my brother," Robin said hastily, trying to disrupt the weird atmosphere.

"Brother?" KF swept his gaze over Damian.

"I'm part of a set." Damian drawled. He spread his hand across his chest. The black material had a red sheen, like deer fur. "I'm the Demon Tamer."

KF beamed. "That's so cool!"

Artemis rolled her eyes.

"So why're you here, Dami?" Robin grinned up at his eldest brother. "Are you chasing an international villain or something? Need our help?"

"Believe it or not, Robin, I do actually make social calls." Damian gave the impression of smiling without actually smiling. He whistled.

A large black dog trotted dutifully out of the shadows, followed by two scruffy puppies that bounced and yapped excitedly.

"Wow," Robin dropped to his knees, scooping a puppy up. "Pompom had puppies?"

"- _tt_ \- _Pompeia_ did." Damian rubbed the dog's head. "They are German Shepard Rottweiler mixes. I thought it would be a good addition to your team. The dedication and patience it takes to train them will also be good practice. You have a tendency to be hasty and reckless, sacrificing good judgements for quicker results."

"They're _soo_ cute!" Robin cooed.

Damian sighed.

Robin pulled one of the puppies onto his lap, petting it gently. "So, what're you going to do now?"

Damian smiled, grimly. "I was going to draw an enormous penis on the batcave. But I couldn't be sure it would be Batman that cleaned it up," Damian's teeth flashed. "I heard he has the kryptonian in some debt, and I do not want to get on his bad side."

Robin laughed, brightly.

"You know Superman?" Superboy stepped forward. He'd been watching the exchange with something like envy and something like confusion in his gut.

"Vaguely," Damian shrugged. "A bit of an asshole, but useful sometimes."

Superboy almost flinched in surprise. It was so strange to hear someone bad-mouth Superman. It was almost like it wasn't possibly to think badly of him. He glanced down.

Pompeia settled next to her owner's legs, looking up at the strange gathering of teenagers with bright, cheerful eyes. She leant against Damian's side, glancing up at him. He smiled down at her.

"Soooo…." Robin lifted the puppy up, squishing its face against his cheek, "If you're free…?"

Damian made a face. "Robin, I don't—"

"C'mon, bro! It'll be fine! You're a great team player! Do you remember when we used to go on patrol with just you and me cuz' you locked batman in the—okay, bad example, but it'll be fine!" Robin cuddled the puppy, white eyes round and pleading. "Please? Just once?"

Damian faltered. He raised an eyebrow. "Won't the justice league be unhappy about an unregistered hero helping your team out? I doubt Batman would approve."

"We're not the Justice League's kid sidekicks anymore," KF straightened up, "We don't need their permission."

"Yeah! This is our own team!" Robin grinned, "Damian can join next time we have mission, right, Kaldur?"

Kaldur frowned a little. "If he's trusted by Batman, I can't see why not."

"The more the merrier!" M'gann beamed.

"You know what? Sure." Artemis folded his arms. "Let's see how you do, pretty boy."

Damian grimaced.

"Superboy?" Robin glanced over at him.

Superboy shrugged. "Whatever. Let's go home."

"That's everybody." Robin grinned, tugging out his phone. "Come on, we'll order pizza and everything."

"You mean, join you at your headquarters?" Damian blinked.

"Well, duh. It's getting late." Robin stood up, cradling the puppy. "You can ride the side car."

* * *

 

_**Recognise—B01—Robin** _

"Look, Damian you're gonna love this place it—"

_**Unregestered Presence Detected—Alarm Activated—Lockdown in—** _

"Override 3-7-7-A, password Janus," Damian said in Batman's voice.

_**Password accepted—Alarm and Lockdown cancelled. Welcome, Batman.** _

Damian grinned down at Robin. "You ought to be more careful with your guests," Damian said, still in Batman's voice.

"Wow," KF breathed, "Creepy."

"Not really," Damian rubbed his throat. "Precise muscle control. I'm sure you could learn it. Your Miss Martian could probably do it right now."

"Oh," Miss Martian flushed. "I suppose. I never really thought about it."

"Don't you have a sit-in member of the league? Someone to make sure you're not doing anything too dangerous?" Damian glanced around the room. "Batman wouldn't leave a group of teenage metas alone, would he?"

"Oh, Black Canary and Red Tornado are on a league mission, with the rest of them. Couldn't take any chances apparently. Hey, let's watch a movie or something." Robin suggested, brightly. He hadn't stopped smiling since he'd laid eyes on his brother. "We could play a game! I bet I could beat you at super smash—"

"No." Damian's hand landed on the top of Robin's head.

"What?" Robin smiled crookedly. "Think you stand a chance against me?"

"It's already nine. You're going to bed." Damian ruffled Robin's hair.

"What?!" Robin yelped. "Are you kidding me?"

"How do you expect to get anywhere by messing up your sleeping pattern? Are you going to sleep through lessons? Or were you going to sleep on _missions_?" Damian's voice didn't rise, but it grew angrier, sharper. "Your childish behaviour is sacrificing valuable time. What are you trying to prove?"

Robin grumbled, ducking out of Damian's reach and trotting off to his quarters.

Damian settled, face dropping back into the blank mask.

"You know? I'm going to bed too," KF slipped away nervously. Kaldur was nowhere to be seen.

Damian dropped onto the couch, Pompeia leapt up next to him, remaining puppy in her mouth. She settled across his lap.

Superboy stilled awkwardly, behind the opposite couch. "What did you mean, earlier? When you said he—superman—was an... asshole?"

Damian glanced up. "Well, he annoys me, is all." He shrugged. "Acting all holier-than-thou. The bright colours hurt my eyes."

Superboy searched Damian's face but couldn't find anything else but the mildest disdain. He didn't know what he was looking for, or what he wanted to hear. He thought it would be a long story, or some sort of event Superman had failed at. Something to make Superman human.

Damian carded absently through Pompeia's fur. Her tail hit the sofa in soft thumps. "You're his clone, right?"

Superboy nodded uneasily.

"I'm probably not the best person to ask about clones," Damian grinned a little like he was sharing a special joke with himself. "But if you want my advice, I'd say, stop calling yourself Superboy."

Superboy started. "But—I _am_ Superboy."

"You don't have to be." Damian said.

"What do you mean?"

Damian tilted his head, breathing deeply. "Look at me. I'm Batman's son. His biological son. I was raised to kill and replace the Batman, and turn the mantel under service of the league of assassins."

Superboy stared.

Damian laughed. "Don't look at me like _that_!" He grinned and it felt weird on his face. "I _didn't_ obviously. I'm twenty, that was a long time ago. What I'm saying is, you're not just superman's cells. You're not some plastic replica. You're alive."

Superboy nodded, breathing deeply.

"You've already done things Superman wouldn't, you've already changed and made your own choices. You're on a different path to him now. You'll never _be_ Superman because you can't." Damian ran a thumb over the back of Pompeia's ears. They were like velvet. "So stop trying to be. Get your own name. Stop comparing yourself to him."

Superboy glanced down. "My own name… Like what?"

"Wipeout-boy." Damian suggested. "Killer-guy. Terminationlad."

Superboy's face twisted angrily. "That sounds like I'm a villain."

"It worked for me." Damian grinned. "Maybe you should start with a civilian name."

"What do you suggest?"

"Amanatidou." Damian rubbed his chin. "Everastou. Mavromoustafakis."

Superboy paled. "Maybe something simpler."

"I don't know." Damian slumped back in the couch, scowling. "What am I, your pet councillor? Chose your own name. Or stick to Superboy. It certainly gets you some nice PR."

* * *

 

Damian was awoken by the slow rumble of the oven. He shifted, blinking. Pompeia shuffled off his lap, letting out a jaw cracking yawn.

"Oh! I didn't mean to wake you!" M'gann yelped.

Damian grumbled, scrubbing at his eyes.

It was early morning, the room swamped in shadow. The square of orange oven light barely touched the sofa, little more than a soft glow. She hadn't turned on any lights, he only knew it was M'gann by her voice.

Damian squinted at the kitchen.

"You can go back to sleep." M'gann offered, slipping into the darkness. "I'll be done in a moment. In fact—I'll shut it off now. Sorry."

"No," Damian huffed, stretching like a cat. "I only sleep a few hours anyway."

"Oh." M'gann moved somewhere in the darkness. "I was going to get you a bed, but I didn't want to wake you, and Robin and KF had already gone..."

Damian could feel the anxiety in the air without having to see her. Pompeia's puppy snuffled somewhere near him. "Could you turn on the light?" He mumbled.

"Yeah, sorry, of course," M'gann whipped in front of the oven.

The room suddenly flooded with blinding light. Damian groaned and shielded his eyes.

Damian mumbled something, staggering up. He stared down at the table, not really computing. He picked up a sticky eggshell.

"I was making cookies," M'gann mumbled half-heartedly.

"Oh." Damian said. "I thought you were doing crack or something."

"What!" M'gann yelped. "I-I would _never—_ "

"Uh, spare me," Damian waved a hand, dragging himself onto a stool. "It's too early for morality."

M'gann chewed her lip. "Why would you _think_ that?"

"You wouldn't be the first." Damian rested his chin on his folded arms.

M'gann's eyes widened. "You mean— _you_..?"

"No." Damian stifled a yawn. "I didn't mean it like that… like, who gets woken up because someone else's making cookies with all the lights turned off?"

"I just..." M'gann glanced down, drawing her arms towards herself. "It got so dark on Mars and it never seems to get really dark here, you know? Sometimes the light gets so blinding here it's so crazy and nobody else seems to notice," M'gann glanced up as if she just remembered Damian was there. "But Earth's great. I love earth. It's great. But..."

"Mmm." Damian agreed.

M'gann drifted backwards. The warm orange light was a balm to her nerves, watching the cookies cook gently, growing golden and hardening, without the flare of bright light like a live-wire in the sides of her eyes. In the silence and comfort and peace of the night.

She loved her friends, it was just… they fit so well in the world, slotting in place without hiding themselves away, without changing faces to stay undercover. They were so strange to her, the constant roar of weirdness that never seemed to stop. She couldn't ask for explanations because they were more trouble than they were worth, so sometimes she felt like she was the only one swimming in a boat-race. It took her effort to do things people found effortless.

Damian's eyes felt heavy, but his mind refused to settle. He knew that now he was awake there would be no sleeping for a few hours. The years of practising polyphasic sleep meant it was impossible.

M'gann sighed, dragging out a chair opposite him. She looked lost.

Damian cleared his throat. "What's Mars like?" He asked, quietly.

M'gann's head jerked up. Slowly, a smile blossomed across her features. "It's… a lot colder than earth, that's for sure. And the day's forty-minuets longer there, which was a little hard to get used to, but not as harder as the years. They're, like, twice as longer than on Earth."

"Why's it red?" Damian mumbled.

"Well, it's the sand." M'gann beamed.

"The sand?" Damian frowned.

"Yeah," M'gann lifted her hands, "You won't believe how surprised I was at the earth's sand! Apparently it doesn't have as much iron in it so it doesn't rust, but it was really strange. Normal—uh, _Martian_ —sand is a lot finer too, Earth sand is really gritty and harsh. Matian sand was also, like, everywhere, and you don't really see that much sand on Earth, I mean, under the sea of course, but on Mars..."

* * *

 

"—mian? Hey, are you still alive and stuff? Hey, hey, hello?"

Damian scowled. Robin shook his shoulder, effectively rubbing Damian's face in the cookie crumbs and half-melted chocolate he'd been sleeping on.

"Rise and shine, big bro." Robin grinned setting his hands on his hips. "We've got a mission."

Damian peeled his face off the table. He winced. "Brief me."

"Well, some priceless statues were stolen from an art museum yesterday, and Batman's computer's detected where they're being kept, and I figured we should go kick some bad guy's butts." Robin grinned triumphantly.

"What were the statues _of_?" Damian scrubbed the worst of the chocolate and crumbs off his face with the back of his hand, grimacing. His eyes were gritty.

"Really, really thin people, apparently. There were some ancient African masks as well I think." Robin showed him a holograph of the stolen items. "No pointers to any Gotham villain, but it's not impossible."

Damian grumbled something. He'd suggest they just called the police, but if they did that they'd have to admit to putting tracers on priceless antiquities, which probably wouldn't help the already precarious public image of Batman. So, instead he asked, "Why don't you just wait for the justice league to come back?"

"Don't be such a spoil-sport, Dami!" Robin tugged at his elbow. "Come on, it'll be fun."

* * *

 

It was not fun.

Damian stared absently at the wall, ruing the day he ever put any faith in a thirteen-year-old. It had been _such_ a long time since he'd been tied up by a villain unless it was part of a plan, it was almost refreshing. A real blast from the past.

"Sorry," Robin grinned awkwardly from across the warehouse. It had been his fault, really. If Robin hadn't rushed in, trying to impress him, Damian would have been able to hide in the shadows and unlock them when they were left unattended. But being drawn into the open, the team been caught early, all added up to being strapped to a pillar with no back up plan.

Damian sighed. "I've had worse missions."

Robin tugged at the rope, but his arms were twisted so that he couldn't touch it. The razors hidden in his fingertips were completely useless.

"A couple of things to remember," Damian announced quietly, "Since I didn't think I'd have to hold your hand through all of this I didn't tell you earlier, but I guess I overestimated the justice league's teaching ability."

The team's expression was a range from disinterested to deeply embarrassed.

"When the bad guys come in to gloat—which they _will_ —don't taunt them or call out to them, don't mock them or try to embarrass them or try to distract them. Do yourselves a favour and shut up for a bit." Damian lifted his head, "Appear vulnerable. If you can cry, do it, but don't draw attention to yourself."

"Why would we do that?" Superboy growled.

"Appear strong when you are weak," Damian grinned, "and weak when you are strong."

"That sounds cool," Robin admitted.

"It's Sun Tzu, Art of War," Damian frowned. "Did you not read the book that I bought you for Christmas?"

"It was in the original Chinese!" Robin whispered angrily, "It's not even the simplified version!"

Damian's gaze flattened. "A lot of things are lost in translation."

"Still," Kaldur pressed, "are you sure that applies to—"

The door opened with a crack of wood.

A woman loomed in the doorway. Her face was sharply defined, cut cheekbones and a heavy Roman nose, hair you could cut yourself on. A trench coat curled around her ankles. Her eyes were dark and lined deeply.

"Such a strange thing, I set a trap for the justice league, and who gets snared?" Her voice was amused, thick and rich, slow like molasses. She had all the time in the word. "A bunch of _kids_." She spat.

A smile split the woman's face split in two. She turned her head towards Damian. "And you."

Damian's smile was all teeth. "Circone. So nice to see you again. Sure did miss you after you left me to bleed out on the ice."

"The pleasure's all yours," Her eyes sparkled like a blade as she advanced on him. "Some men can't take no for an answer. You'd think shooting you five times and pushing off a cliff would be enough, but it looks like you came crawling back after all." She rested a knife's tip on Damian's chest. "I do understand your..." Circone's breath mingled with his, "... _dedication_."

Damian swallowed, flattening against the pillar.

It happened so fast.

Circone tore through his suit, plunging her knife through Damian's breastbone.

He screamed.

Circone grinned wolfishly, face scarlet, her teeth blindingly white. "Call that politely declining."

Damian choked, throat spasming in gulps and gasps. He shook and shook, red spreading like stain over his skin, brilliant and blinding.

"The rest of you skinny knock-offs are relatively valuable, but nobody's paying for little old Damian," Circone turned to the rest of them, smile fragrant and sweet, "So consider him your whipping boy—or your entertainment—but don't consider much else. Capiche?"

Damian's head dropped limp, body jerking. Shoulders shaking. Sobbing.

"'Til next time, darl," Circone closed the door behind her.

"Damian!" Robin yelled, struggling against his bonds, "Damian! Damian, oh my god, oh _god_..."

"It's going to be fine, Damian," Kaldur's voice trembled, "We'll get you out of there, just hang on."

Damian's head jerked. Blood dribbled to the pool at his feet.

And then he stood up. The ropes fell around his feet like a magician, he stretched out his hands, smiling. The knife sticking out of his chest seemed suddenly fake.

"You're…?" Robin paled.

"I'm fine." Damian rubbed his wrists, still grinning darkly. "Well, mildly fine."

He wrapped a hand around the knife and dragged it out, grimacing in pain. Damian glanced at the blade, dark with his own blood. "Serrated _and_ poisoned." He pulled a face.

"So, how did you do it?" Artemis leant against her ropes, curious despite herself. "Magic? Trick of the light? Swapping the knives? Teleportation? What?"

"I'm immortal," Damian said, blandly.

"You're _immortal_ ," Robin stage whispered.

"That's _so_ cool," KF added quietly.

Damian slipped behind the pillars, slicing the rope away. Superboy's was the only one who took some sawing, which just showed how sharp Circone kept her weapons.

"So, _how_ , exactly, are you immortal?" Robin asked nervously.

Damian clutched at his chest, blood still streaming through his fingers. He grimaced. "Ask me again when I'm not in this bad a mood."

* * *

 

"Sooo…" Robin pushed his dark glasses up his nose. The rest of the group seemed unable to leave him alone too, hanging around like a bad smell.

Damian's face soured even further. The gauze on his chest was heavy and itchy, and while he _should_ appreciated not having to pull out bullets and sew himself back together in motel rooms and in the back of a car, he'd rather be there that surrounded by a bunch of nosy teenagers in some high-tech medical facility.

Or, maybe he was just cranky. It seemed that having the ability to destroy all foreign elements in his blood stream also meant no IV pain killers, so he'd had to take some paracetamol for a fucking _knife wound_.

"...You're immortal now?" Robin finished.

"- _tt_ -..." Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I suppose. I haven't aged since I was seventeen."

Robin nodded. "I see it. How did it happen?"

"I've died five times. The fifth time, the lazarus pit didn't work. Death didn't spit back my soul. My mother replaced half of my blood with a mixture of chemicals based on the lazarus waters, and..." Damian gestured to his body. "...Ta-da."

Robin grinned, although dimmer than yesterday's. "What's it like?"

"It's shit." Damian spat.

Robin stared.

"Look, the pit isn't some magic gateway, it isn't life's damn revolving door." Damian's face twisted, "You shouldn't be alive in there, and it lets you know. It tears you up, seeps through your skull and it _lets you know_. And me? It's in my head all the time. It _is_ me. It's like being ground between the cogs of life and death and sometimes I wanna rest and I wanna stop but I can't. The wheels keep on turning."

Robin stared.

Damian sighed. "Look, it doesn't matter." Damian pushed himself up. "Take care of the little pup for me, okay?"

Robin nodded, looking down at the puppy.

Damian stood up unsteadily. "And the rest of you. Listen to your elders. Eat vegetables. Don't eat the yellow snow. Whatever."

He hobbled out, Pompeia at his heels.

He hated how he left.


End file.
